


ever since

by ColorblindCity



Series: in short, shallow gasps [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Multi, Poetry, it could be from any point of view really, make of this one what you will, really just choose whoever you like, the kind that doesn't rhyme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:51:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorblindCity/pseuds/ColorblindCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I will write a book,<br/>with madmen<br/>and spiders<br/>and angels falling like rain<br/>and painting the streets red,<br/>while the police cover their ears<br/>to drown the screaming of the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ever since

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea, ok? This could be from anyone's point of view, really.

 

When I was young  
I left a land of heat,  
and have not missed it  
ever since.

A land of humid winds  
and swaying palms,  
A sky of starry nights  
and rosy sunrises. 

And I have not missed it,  
ever since.

 

When I was young  
I read a book,  
the name of which  
escapes my mind.

And it had pirates,  
and it had dragons,  
and damsels stolen  
and rescued,  
by no other than themselves,  
while the knight wasted away  
with a drink in his hand.

But I have not read it  
ever since.

 

When I was young  
I loved a boy,  
blond as wheat fields,  
freckle covered, pale,  
with eyes like the sky  
of the land I left.

When I was young  
I loved a boy,  
but I have not loved him,  
ever since.

 

 

 

 

When I grow old,  
I will live in the woods,  
with the wolves and the deer  
and the sycamore trees,  
I will watch the snow  
blanket the world.

And I will think of  
the land I left  
when I was young,  
and have not missed,  
ever since.

 

When I grow old,  
I will write a book,  
with madmen  
and spiders  
and angels falling like rain  
and painting the streets red,  
while the police cover their ears  
to drown the screaming of the dead.

And I will think of  
the book I read  
when I was young,  
and have not read,  
ever since.

 

When I grow old,  
I will love a man,  
tall and dark and handsome,  
with nose sharper than boulder,  
and eyes like the woods  
I've been living in.

And I will think of  
the boy I loved  
when I was young,  
and have not loved,  
ever since.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
